The title of this column is deliberately vague. By dealing with a censorious spirit, I mean both watching out for the temptation to adopt this posture toward others and knowing how to respond to people who adopt this posture toward us.
This sin is insidious because it can hide under the banner of “discernment,” when in reality the sin often being exposed isn’t in the person under attack but in the wicked assumptions of the one doing the attacking. (I sometimes wonder if one of the primary spiritual effects of social media—especially X—has been the cultivation and the exposure of this spirit in ourselves, to the point it begins to feel “normal” or, worse, righteous.)
Jonathan Edwards devotes significant attention to this problem in Charity and Its Fruits, his masterful series of sermons on 1 Corinthians 13. He connects a censorious spirit to Paul’s description of love in verse 5, which reads in the KJV, “[Love] thinketh no evil.” The ESV translates the phrase as “is not . . . resentful,” with a footnote pointing to the underlying Greek: “does not count up wrongdoing.” The CSB and NIV similarly say that love does not keep a “record of wrongs.”
Three Ways a Censorious Spirit Shows Itself
Edwards sees in this phrase not only a tendency to brood over past offenses but a readiness to look for new ones—a disposition eager to spot fresh evils in others. He identifies three manifestations of a censorious spirit. What follows is a lightly updated version of his language.
1. A censorious spirit shows itself in an eagerness to judge the spiritual condition of others. That is, it is quick to pass judgment on those who profess faith, condemning them as hypocrites.
Here we see the trigger-happy person, ready to fire off missiles at any perceived hypocrisy among people whose aspirations are sincere and whose reputation is sound. Often this posture springs from a lack of spiritual grounding or gospel security. Feeling inadequate due to our own sins, and when confronted with the holiness and love we see in others, we may nurture a wicked desire to knock believers down a peg or two.
This is the bitter fruit of an ironic pairing: self-righteousness (the desire to elevate ourselves) joined to insecurity (the fear that we don’t measure up). There’s something deeply twisted about eagerly pointing out hypocrisies in others that we work hard to conceal in ourselves.
2. A censorious spirit shows itself in a tendency to judge the character of others harshly. It overlooks their good qualities, assumes they lack virtues they actually possess, minimizes what is commendable in them, exaggerates their faults, or even accuses them of sins of which they are not guilty.
This temptation feels especially close to the surface in our polarized culture. It’s not hard to see people on both sides of the political aisle engaging in this kind of censoriousness toward the other. More troubling, though, is how often the same spirit appears in the church.
One thing that has long stood out to me is how generous God is in commending the faith and faithfulness of his people. The heroes of Hebrews 11 all bear unmistakable marks of sin and corruption (Samson makes the list?!), and yet the author, under divine inspiration, is eager to shine a light on their faith.
God also promises that nothing good we do will go unseen or unrewarded. He notices not only our secret sins but also our unnoticed obedience. To resist a censorious spirit, we should consciously reverse the tendency Edwards describes and train ourselves to notice what God himself is pleased to see.
3. A censorious spirit shows itself in a tendency to judge the actions of others uncharitably. It reveals itself by placing the worst possible interpretation on people’s actions—not only by assuming wrongdoing without sufficient evidence, but also by assigning bad motives to actions that are plain to see and could reasonably be understood in a good and charitable way.
This one stings because I know I’m guilty of it far too often in my relationships. Negative assumptions about words or actions that I could just as easily interpret neutrally, or even generously, are kryptonite to relational health. It stings for another reason too: I’ve been on the receiving end of this spirit, both personally and professionally.
I fear the health of our churches and institutions has been deeply compromised by the widespread habit of assuming the worst rather than believing the best—to the point that we become unable to recognize real goodness in people we disagree with.
Edwards highlights the loving counterpoint to this spirit: “When they are obliged against their inclination to think ill of another, it will be no pleasure to them to declare it, but they will be backward to speak of it.”
Responding to the Censure of Others
Having examined how a censorious spirit can take root in our own hearts, let’s now consider how to respond when that spirit is directed at us. Edwards counsels us to rest in Christ and to refuse to grant censorious people the satisfaction of seeing their arrows hit the mark. He writes, in effect,
When people harbor ill will toward us and are therefore inclined to harm us—whether through reproach or other forms of injury—they take satisfaction if their actions succeed in unsettling or distressing us. But if they discover that nothing they do can disturb the calm of our minds, that we continue in the same serenity and composure, then they are thwarted and their purpose fails. They are like someone who shoots an arrow at a person borne aloft on eagle’s wings, far beyond reach: the arrow exhausts its force before it ever arrives and falls back without accomplishing anything.
Of course, this is far easier to fake than to truly accomplish. We can recite “sticks and stones” all day long, while inwardly receiving wounds that don’t heal quickly. There may indeed be moments when defending one’s honor or setting the record straight is necessary.
Still, there’s something deeply freeing about allowing the Lord’s perfect knowledge to become our shield—to say, in effect, “The Lord sees” and to leave judgment in his hands. It’s also possible to trust that fair-minded observers (those not driven by resentment or censoriousness) can discern the spirit of the flame-thrower and grenade-launcher and will not give credence to any and every accusation rising from that cauldron of hellfire.
Censoriousness and the Gospel
Only the gospel can heal us of a censorious spirit, because the gospel reveals a God who is not censorious but generous and gracious beyond imagination. His posture toward us is not that of a perpetually disappointed Father but of a delighted Dad who cheers on every stumbling step toward righteousness.
And only the gospel can protect us from the censure of others, because in the end he is our refuge and strength, our shield against lies and attacks, and our sure promise that justice will have the final word.
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